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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24183331">Falling Asleep</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/afraidtobelieve/pseuds/afraidtobelieve'>afraidtobelieve</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The West Wing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Episode: s03e08 The Women of Qumar, Gen, post-episode</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:40:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,356</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24183331</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/afraidtobelieve/pseuds/afraidtobelieve</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I wanted to make sure you hadn’t fallen asleep.” </p>
<p>She gives him a single, humorless laugh. She knows damn well that she won’t be sleeping anytime soon.</p>
<p>Post-episode for “The Women of Qumar.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 1</p><p> </p><p>The first thing CJ does after putting a lid on the press briefing is apologize to Nancy. She knows that she was out of line and really, she doesn’t think she deserves the forgiveness that Nancy so quickly offers, but she still can’t shake the burning rage she feels.</p><p>It was wrong to compare the situation in Qumar to apartheid but god, it’s horrible in its own right. Why doesn’t anyone see that? Why doesn’t anyone care?</p><p>She’d been grasping for just one person to understand, just one person to look her in the eye and confirm that she’s not utterly alone in her anger. God, she’s so angry.</p><p>She can’t look Toby in the eye right now, or really any of her male colleagues for that matter. She makes sure to slam her office door before collapsing behind her desk with the stack of messages that Carol handed to her. Just like that, her anger fades to exhaustion.</p><p>She’s ignoring the messages in favor of staring out the window when her door opens and Josh sticks his head in.</p><p>“CJ?”</p><p>“Knock much?”</p><p>“I did.”</p><p>“Really.”</p><p>“Three times. I wanted to make sure you hadn’t fallen asleep.”</p><p>She gives him a single, humorless laugh. She knows he’s concerned, that he’s doing his best, but she’s not really in the mood to accommodate a man just because he’s <em>trying</em> right now. She knows damn well that she won’t be sleeping anytime soon.</p><p>“So... um.”</p><p>She sighs. “What, Josh?”</p><p>“Can I... come in?” He’s doing that thing he does when he’s uncomfortable, starting a sentence and pausing as if he didn’t finish formulating the thought before his mouth started moving. He looks like he’s surprised to be saying anything at all.</p><p>She makes a noncommittal gesture to let him in and turns back to the window. She hears the door click shut softly, which in itself should be a red flag considering how, well, <em>in</em>considerate Josh tends to be. He’s usually a constant flurry of movement, slamming doors, smacking walls, barging into rooms already halfway through whatever argument he’s trying to make. Quiet is a conscious choice for him.</p><p>“CJ?”</p><p>“<em>What</em>, Josh!” She turns to give him her best glare and he very nearly takes a step back towards the door.</p><p>“I just wanted... to make sure you were okay.”</p><p>“Look. Just- I’m tired, okay? I’m fine, I just want to be alone. You can tell Toby to stop worrying and I’ll see you all tomorrow.”</p><p>“I haven’t talked to Toby.”</p><p>“You know, for a politician, you’re a pretty terrible liar.”</p><p>His eyes are wide for a moment before he looks down and kicks at an imaginary spot on the carpet.</p><p>“He really is sorry, CJ. We all are.”</p><p>“Well thanks, Josh, I’ll be sure to pass that along to the Qumari women at the next press briefing. Hey, sorry your husband thew <em>acid</em> in your face because his brother <em>raped</em> you. We just gave him a gun so maybe it’ll be a little less agonizing the next time he tries to <em>kill</em> you!”</p><p>He looks up and he’s got that kicked puppy expression that normally endears him to every woman from here to Maryland, but today she just can’t bring herself to care.</p><p>“CJ...”</p><p>“What!”</p><p>He gives her a desperate look, runs his hand through his hair, and slumps down onto the couch. There is nothing he could possibly say, he knows.</p><p>“I don’t-”</p><p>“Wait a second. Are you wet?”</p><p>“Uh...”</p><p>“Why are you wet?”</p><p>“I...got hit by a water balloon.”</p><p>“Who-“</p><p>“Amy Gardner.” He looks flustered, like a golden retriever that just got sprayed with water for the first time. After the day she’s had, the absurdity of the moment finally cracks her and she can’t help but laugh.</p><p>“CJ! It’s not funny!” He gives her his whiniest protest, but he’s glad to finally see something, anything, in her eyes besides the exhausted rage he saw before. He can take one for the team for a moment. Just a moment.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I just...” Her laughter begins to subside with a sigh. “What did you <em>do</em>?”</p><p>“Nothing!”</p><p>“Josh.”</p><p>“I made fun of her balloon animals.”</p><p>“Her <em>what</em>?”</p><p>“Exactly.”</p><p>She shakes her head smiling, then looks back towards her door.</p><p>“He still here?”</p><p>“You know he is, CJ.”</p><p>“Yeah.” Toby wouldn’t leave her like this, she knows.</p><p>He leans forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped tightly as he tries his damndest to find the words for what he’s trying to say.</p><p>“Look, CJ...”</p><p>“Yeah.” She’s tired. She doesn’t have the energy for this.</p><p>“Just... um. You know- you know that I- look. I don’t...” He hangs his head. He doesn’t know what to say. He’s never known. He’s spent a lifetime in the political party that supposedly fights for women and he still doesn’t know what to say.</p><p>“Josh.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, CJ. I’m sorry that it’s like this. It’s awful and I’m sorry and I don’t know how to fix it.”</p><p>“Josh.”</p><p>He’s still hanging his head.</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>“For what?” He looks up in confusion, but he can’t help but feel relieved that he managed to say something right.</p><p>“Just for... you know. Being you.”</p><p>He gives her a small smile, the beginnings of mischief in his eyes.</p><p>“Well, I <em>am</em> quite something.”</p><p>“Oh yeah, you’re something alright.”</p><p>His eyes crinkle as he laughs.</p><p>He stands and starts toward the door before spinning backwards and marching to her desk.</p><p>“Stand up.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“C’mon, stand up!” He’s back to whining now, bouncing on the balls of his feet. She gives him a suspicious look as she complies.</p><p>As soon as she’s on her feet she’s engulfed in a hug that nearly knocks the wind out of her. She wraps her arms around his waist and squeezes back, sighing as she feels him bury his face into her shoulder. They stand like that for a moment, letting the silence settle around them.</p><p>“I love you beyond reason, Claudia Jean.”</p><p>“I love you, too, mi amor.”</p><p>She smiles and pulls back, let’s him hold her by the shoulders for a moment while he gives her a look so earnest she might cry. This man may give her a migraine on a daily basis, but her heart still swells with affection for him.</p><p>“Toby loves you, too, you know.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“And Sam.”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“And the WNBA.”</p><p>That earns him a swat to the shoulder. He smirks and releases her.</p><p>“You gonna be okay?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Talk to Toby.”</p><p>“Yes, dad.”</p><p>“C’mon, CJ, we both know you’re 3 months older than me.”</p><p>Another swat to the shoulder.</p><p>“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, mi amor.”</p><p>“Night.”</p><p>“Wait!”</p><p>He spins back around.</p><p>“So... Amy Gardner, huh?”</p><p>He snorts and rolls his eyes.</p><p>“Shut up.”</p><p>He smacks the top of the doorframe on his way out.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 2</p><p> </p><p>He’s on his way back to his office when Josh notices that his assistant is still working. He approaches the front of Donna’s desk and leans over her computer as she types away, unbothered.</p><p>“How ya doin’?”</p><p>“Hello.” She doesn’t look up.</p><p>“You’re still here?”</p><p>“It would appear so.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Well, seeing as you have meetings with about half of Congress tomorrow for 743, I figured I’d retype your notes in case I’d missed any salient points the first 800 times around.”</p><p>Oh.</p><p>“Well, forget it. You need sleep.”</p><p>“I’ve transcended the need for sleep, Josh. Scientists have been wanting to study me for years.”</p><p>“Well, yeah, but I thought that had more to do with your freakish ability to retain useless trivia.”</p><p>She continues typing with one hand, eyes fixed on her monitor, while she throws a paper clip at him.</p><p>“Seriously, I think they might’ve grown your brain in a lab somewhere. You might wanna make sure you don’t have alien DNA or something.”</p><p>“You really need to stop watching X-Files reruns when you can’t sleep, Josh.”</p><p>“But then how would I know not to trust the government?”</p><p>“Josh.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Don’t you have any work to do for your <em>actual</em> government job?”</p><p>He gives that a moment of thought.</p><p>“Nah.”</p><p>He starts fiddling with the knick knacks on her desk and she sighs, accepting that any further productivity went out the window as soon as he came back from CJ’s office. She prints her document and shuts down the computer before she begins organizing and putting away the files on her desk. If he starts fiddling with actual government papers she’ll never find them again.</p><p>She’s still organizing, staring down at the various files in front of her, when she asks.</p><p>“So, how did it go with Amy Gardner?”</p><p>He taps his fingers on her monitor a few times as he speaks.</p><p>“Fine, she already knew that we were trying to come up with different wording for the thing.”</p><p>“The UN Treaty.”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“I’ll bet she was glad to hear that.”</p><p>He smirks and rolls his eyes.</p><p>“Amy’s always glad when she wins.”</p><p>“Not unlike somebody else I know.” Her desk is clear and she stands, starting towards the printer and then his office, freshly printed sheets of paper in hand. He follows her inside and sits down while she organizes his desk and places the stack squarely in front of him.</p><p>“What’s this?”</p><p>“Your notes for 743 and your schedule for tomorrow.”</p><p>“You couldn’t have handed these to me back in the bullpen?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Dare I ask why not?”</p><p>“Because you would have somehow managed to lose them between the printer and your office.”</p><p>He opens his mouth to protest but, seeing the look on her face, thinks better of it and shuts up. He’s still confused about Amy, but the other women in his life seem to be tolerating him for the moment and he doesn’t want to try his luck after today.</p><p>Luckily, she decides to change the subject.</p><p>“So. A water balloon?”</p><p>“How did you-“</p><p>“Sam.”</p><p>“Ya know, before we took office, I would’ve thought the women would be the biggest gossips in the White House, and yet...”</p><p>“The women? And why is that?”</p><p>
  <em>Woah. Danger, Will Robinson.</em>
</p><p>“Just... you know.”</p><p>“I really don’t.” And with that, she heads back to the bullpen to pack up her things.</p><p>“Shit,” he whispers, then hops up from his chair and bounds after her, leaning against the glass doorframe behind her desk as she grabs her purse and coat.</p><p>“Can we... pretend I didn’t say that?”</p><p>“Sure, Josh.” Her tone is carefully neutral.</p><p>“Are you still mad at me for saying you worked as a prostitute? Because that was purely hypothetical, for the sake of argument.”</p><p>“Right.”</p><p>“It was!”</p><p>“I’m not mad at you.”</p><p>“You... seem kinda mad.”</p><p>“Well, I’m not.”</p><p>“Donna.”</p><p>She finishes packing up her purse and turns to him as she puts her coat on.</p><p>“What, Josh.”</p><p>“I’m <em>sorry</em>. Okay?”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>“Alright. Hang on a sec, I’ll pack up and walk you out.”</p><p>“How chivalrous.” And with that, she grabs her purse and walks back to his office. He shrugs and follows her.</p><p>They chat idly in his office and on their way out to the front gate on Pennsylvania Ave., and they’re almost to his car when she stops at a crosswalk. He pauses a few feet ahead of her and gives her a questioning glance.</p><p>“Where are you parked?”</p><p>“Oh, I took the metro this morning, so...” and then the walk sign flashes. She gives him a small wave before stepping towards the street.</p><p>“Donna!”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“You can’t take the metro this time of night.”</p><p>“It’s only 9:30, Josh. It’s fine.” She keeps walking, so he catches up to her and grabs her wrist.</p><p>“Donna, seriously, I’m driving you home.”</p><p>She gives him an unreadable look, then acquiesces. She really doesn’t love taking the metro this late anyway, and she knows that he knows that.</p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>Twenty minutes later, he pulls into an empty spot on her street and cuts the engine, unbuckling his seatbelt and moving to open his door. She knows his mother would kill him if he ever let her walk alone in this neighborhood at this hour, so she doesn’t bother to protest. He notices that she doesn’t make her own move to exit the car, however. Her hands are in her lap and she stares straight ahead, half of her face illuminated by streetlights while the other is obscured by shadows.</p><p>“It’s one in six, you know.”</p><p>He pinches the bridge of his nose.</p><p>“Donna, can we not with the useless trivia tonight? My brain is fried.”</p><p>“One in six American women will experience sexual assault in her lifetime.”</p><p><em>Shit</em>.</p><p>“Donna...”</p><p>“One in six but they think it’s a lot higher.”</p><p>“Look-“</p><p>“One in six but they think it’s higher and only a fraction report it.”</p><p>He sighs and bows his head.</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>She waits a beat, lets him sit in his discomfort.</p><p>“You should‘ve stuck up for CJ.”</p><p>“I apologized to CJ.”</p><p>“You should’ve stuck up for her in the first place.”</p><p>“Look, Donna, we had to make that deal.”</p><p>“I know that.”</p><p>“Then how could I-“</p><p>“You could have <em>acknowledged</em> that her objection wasn’t trivial. You could have treated her objection like the legitimate concern that it was and not as a personal bias on her part.”</p><p>“It <em>is</em> a personal bias!”</p><p>“Objecting to the violent subjugation of <em>any</em> group of people is not a bias. It’s empathy. It’s <em>humanity</em>.”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“We’re half the world, Josh.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“Dr. Bartlet, CJ, Margaret, Ginger, Bonnie, me.”</p><p>“I just- wait, what?”</p><p>“One in six. That’s six women right there.”</p><p>He winces.</p><p>“Donna, don’t...”</p><p>“It <em>is</em> personal, Josh. It will always be personal.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“She’s the only woman on senior staff. I’m just saying that it wouldn’t be totally out of line for you to listen to her when she knows something you don’t.”</p><p>“I understand-“</p><p>“You <em>don’t</em>.”</p><p>And with that, she unbuckles her seatbelt and grabs her purse from where it was sitting between her feet. She’s turning the door handle when he reaches out and puts a hand on her forearm. Then, he speaks.</p><p>“I know I don’t- I know... I know I can’t, um...”</p><p>She settles back into her seat and waits in silence for him to finish his thought.</p><p>“My best friend at Harvard. Her name was Jane.” His head is still lowered, staring into his lap. She notices that his hand is still gripping her forearm.</p><p>“She came to my dorm room really late one night. She’d been at some party, she’d... she was at some party and this guy from our civics class raped her.”</p><p>“Josh...”</p><p>“She wouldn’t let me call the police. She wouldn’t let me call anyone. She just... she cried for hours. I just held her and she cried. I didn’t know what else to do. I still don’t.”</p><p>Her heart constricts with empathy for this girl. In her mind’s eye, she sees a shell shocked kid knocking on her best friend’s door, and a wide-eyed teenager with unruly hair and familiar dimples who blanches at the sight before him. Even now, he panics at the sight of a crying woman. She imagines his soft voice as he asked her, stricken, what the hell happened. She told him, and he wanted to fix it but he couldn’t, so he held her.</p><p>“You took care of her, Josh. You made her feel safe.”</p><p>“She told me that a few years later. She... said <em>thank you</em>.” His face screws up into a grimace at that, like he can’t fathom a reason to thank him when he’d felt so completely inept.</p><p>“You showed her unconditional love. That’s a lot rarer than you realize. Especially on a night like that.”</p><p>“Maybe. I don’t know. I just- I wanted you to know that I... I know I don’t know. Not really. But I... I know it’s tough for CJ sometimes, with all of us. I wanted you to know that I know that. And I’ll try to listen better, next time.”</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>“Okay. Sorry I-“</p><p>“It’s okay, Josh. Thank you for trusting me enough to share.”</p><p>“How did this become about me trusting you with this stuff? Shouldn’t it, you know, be the other way around?”</p><p>There’s a ghost of a smile on her face as she moves to get out of the car.</p><p>“Come on. You’re coming in and I’m making you some tea.”</p><p>“I am, am I?”</p><p>“Yes.“ Her finality tells him that there’s no use in protesting.</p><p>They’re inside her apartment before either of them speaks again. Josh tosses his coat in the general direction of a chair and flops unceremoniously onto her couch. Donna locks her door behind them and throws the deadbolt before turning towards the kitchen.</p><p>“You’ve really gotta get out of this neighborhood, Donna.”</p><p>She sets the kettle on the stove and pulls out a canister that contains more varieties of tea than any one person, in his opinion, should possess.</p><p>“I will with the raise that you are so generously about to give me.”</p><p>He smirks.</p><p>“Nice try.”</p><p>She takes off her shoes and leans against the counter, waiting for the water to boil.</p><p>“Seriously, you should have stayed with that roommate. You could’ve afforded a much better neighborhood-“</p><p>“Josh, relax. I can take care of myself.”</p><p>“You and I both know it’s not about that.”</p><p>She looks toward the kettle as it begins to whistle.</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>She’s pouring hot water into two mugs, her back to him, adding honey to his because they both know he won’t drink it plain.</p><p>“Donna,” he starts. “You know I’d listen to you, too, right?”</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>“About the... if you ever, um,” he rubs a hand through his hair. “CJ’s not afraid to tell me things. You shouldn’t be, either.”</p><p>She crosses the room, mugs in hand, and hands one to him before settling into the opposite end of the couch, legs tucked underneath her.</p><p>“I’m not.”</p><p>“You’re not what?”</p><p>“Afraid.”</p><p>“Ahkay.”</p><p>They sit in silence for a few moments, sipping their tea and staring ahead at nothing.</p><p>“CJ thanked me earlier, too,” he says haltingly.</p><p>She looks up at him.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“She thanked me, like Jane did. I didn’t know what to say, so I said I was sorry it was like this. You know, the world, society, whatever. I said I was sorry I couldn’t fix it and she said thank you. Why... why did she thank me?”</p><p>“I don’t speak for all woman-kind, Josh.”</p><p>“I know. I know that.”</p><p>She waits a beat, gathers her thoughts.</p><p>“Sometimes it’s nice to hear an apology. We’re never gonna get one from the men who do these things, but sometimes it’s nice to hear it. CJ loves you, and she trusts you, and you acknowledging that this sucks probably made her feel just a little less alone.”</p><p>He ponders that for a moment.</p><p>She sets her mug down on the coffee table and stands.</p><p>“That’s... just a guess though,” she says quietly as she makes her way to the hall closet for extra blankets and a pillow.</p><p>He takes both of their mugs back to the sink, washing and placing them on the drying rack. He starts to fiddle with her coffee maker but only succeeds in pushing several unnecessary buttons and possibly angering it.</p><p>She’s making up the couch for him when she hears him curse and turns to see what he’s managed to get himself into.</p><p>“Josh.”</p><p>“Yup.”</p><p>“What the hell are you doing?”</p><p>“I, ah... I was trying to set your coffeemaker for the morning. You know, just, one less thing for you to do. But I think it hates me. I really think it might be planning to kill me in my sleep.”</p><p>She rolls her eyes before moving past him to fix whatever mess he’s made. She gets her coffee maker set up by pressing a series of buttons in an order that eludes him, and he stands there silently.</p><p>“I loosened up the buttons for you.”</p><p>“Of course you did, pumpkin patch.”</p><p>She turns and pats his shoulder as she passes him.</p><p>“But it was nice of you to try. You can be very sweet when you want to be.”</p><p>He smirks, dimples on full display.</p><p>“I’m always sweet.”</p><p>“And the spell is broken.”</p><p>He shoves his hands into his pockets and smiles at the ground while she walks towards her bedroom. She’s nearly to the doorway when she turns around.</p><p>“I’m just gonna get you some sweats.”</p><p>“Okay, but I don’t think pink is really my color.”</p><p>“They’re yours and they’re navy blue, relax.”</p><p>“You <em>stole</em> my sweats?”</p><p>“Borrowed.”</p><p>“Stole!”</p><p>“Always with the whining. Suck it up or you can sleep in your suit.”</p><p>He’s flipping through a magazine on her coffee table when his sweats hit him square in the face. She’s changed into sweats of her own and a faded Yale t-shirt that also looks familiar. He chooses not to comment on the shirt for the moment.</p><p>“You know, you’re not being very nice to me, Donna.”</p><p>“I’m giving you clothing and a place to rest your weary head.”</p><p>“You’re giving me clothes that you <em>stole</em> from <em>me</em> and you’re not even letting me share the bed!”</p><p>She laughs.</p><p>“In your dreams.”</p><p>“Frequently.”</p><p>She rolls her eyes and yells goodnight as she turns and goes back into her bedroom. He echoes the sentiment back to her, but her door is already shut.</p><p>He strips down to his boxers and undershirt in the bathroom before putting on the sweats and stealing some of her mouthwash. <em>Borrowing</em>, he corrects in his own head, then quietly makes his way back to the couch.</p><p>He’s lying down, trying to punch her spare pillow into an acceptable shape, when a thought occurs to him. Maybe it’s the lateness of the hour or the day he’s had. Maybe it’s the conversation they’d had earlier. Whatever it is, he sits back up and paces in front of the couch twice before making up his mind and marching to her bedroom door. He knows that he shouldn’t, that he should just let her sleep, but he won’t be able to relax until he asks.</p><p>He raises his hand to knock before taking a step back and putting his hands on his hips. He goes to knock again and once more, he stops. Should he ask? He should definitely ask. Maybe not now. But then maybe she won’t feel comfortable telling him the truth while they’re at the office. Maybe she-</p><p>“Josh?”</p><p>From the other side of the door he can hear her exasperation.</p><p>He clears his throat, but his voice still comes out in that higher octave that he hates.</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“I can hear you fidgeting. What do you need?”</p><p>“I um, can I...?”</p><p>“Come in.”</p><p>He pushes the door open slowly and leans against the doorframe. She sits up in bed and leans over the bedside table to turn on a lamp.</p><p>He stares at the little rug on her side of the bed. It’s fuzzy and probably warm. He knows from countless adjoining hotel rooms that her feet are always cold, especially in the mornings. He focuses on the rug as he speaks.</p><p>“I, ah...I just wanted to make sure you weren’t, um...” He’s rubbing nervously at his hair again.</p><p>“Spit it out, Josh. It’s late.”</p><p>“DoesitmakeyouuncomfortablewhenIsaythingslikethat?” It all comes out in one breath and he winces.</p><p>Well.</p><p>“Things like... what, exactly?”</p><p>And then he’s in her room and he’s pacing again.</p><p>“Because I can stop, really, I swear. I know I’m your boss and you’re technically my subordinate but I don’t really think of it that way and we’re friends but I never want you to feel weird or objectified or anything-“</p><p>“Josh.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Be still.”</p><p>He stops pacing but stays on the opposite side of the room, as if physical distance will protect him from what she might say. He’s finally making eye contact but he looks panicked. He starts talking again.</p><p>“I’m really sorry, Donna. You know I’d never- I could <em>never.</em>.. but I’ll stop. I swear I’ll stop.”</p><p>“Stop what?”</p><p>“The... jokes.”</p><p>“What jokes?”</p><p>“You know, the... like what I said back there? About the dreams? And how they’re frequent? I didn’t mean anything by it, I was just joking, really, it was just something I said, but it makes you uncomfortable and that’s not okay so I’ll stop.” He’s inching towards the door as if he plans on making an escape as soon as possible.</p><p>“Josh, come here.”</p><p>He looks confused.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Come sit on the bed and listen to me.”</p><p>He approaches cautiously and sits on the edge of the bed near her hip, looking at the ground, out the window, anywhere but her.</p><p>“If anything you did made me uncomfortable I would have said something years ago. Do you understand?”</p><p>He looks at her then, a desperate look on his face. Like he wants to be relieved but he’s not sure if he heard her correctly the first time.</p><p>“You’re sure?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“You promise you’d tell me.”</p><p>“I promise, Josh.”</p><p>He exhales.</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>“Now get out of my bed before I hurt you.”</p><p>“Promise?” The dimples are back and she has only herself to blame.</p><p>He squeezes her hand before he stands and makes his way back towards the door. He places his hand on the doorframe and turns his head back to her.</p><p>“Night, Donna.”</p><p>“Night, Josh.”</p><p>He double-checks the deadbolt on her front door before he goes back to the couch. He doesn’t bother with pretenses, just makes sure that the TV’s muted before he settles in to stare at the sci-fi he doesn’t understand.</p><p>Josh looks on as Mulder watches Scully fall asleep on the couch beside him. He gently tucks a strand of hair behind her ear before pulling a blanket further onto her shoulders. She’s vulnerable and silent next to him, and he looks down at her sleeping form with a tenderness that tugs at somewhere deep in Josh’s chest.</p><p><em>That</em>, Josh thinks in a moment of clarity. <em>I understand that.</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I got the statistics on sexual assault from RAINN (https://www.rainn.org/statistics/victims-sexual-violence). These are statistics from 1998, but this episode aired in 2001 and these were the closest stats I could find. </p><p>If you or someone you know needs help, the National Sexual Assault Hotline is 1-800-656-4673.</p><p>I hope you all are safe, happy, and healthy. </p><p>Xo, E</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is my first West Wing fic. I know this episode is A Lot, so I hope I did the subject matter and the characters some sort of justice. </p>
<p>Xo, E</p></blockquote></div></div>
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